Marigold Garden

THE FOUR PRINCESSES

 
Four Princesses lived in a Green Tower—
A Bright Green Tower in the middle of the sea;
And no one could think—oh, no one could think—
Who the Four Princesses could be.
 
 
One looked to the North, and one to the South,
And one to the East, and one to the West;
They were all so pretty, so very pretty,
You could not tell which was the prettiest.
 
 
Their curls were golden—their eyes were blue,
And their voices were sweet as a silvery bell;
And four white birds around them flew,
But where they came from—who could tell?
 
 
Oh, who could tell? for no one knew,
And not a word could you hear them say.
But the sound of their singing, like church bells ringing,
Would sweetly float as they passed away.
 
 
For under the sun, and under the stars,
They often sailed on the distant sea;
Then in their Green Tower and Roses bower
They lived again—a mystery.
 

WHEN YOU AND I GROW UP

 
When you and I
Grow up—Polly—
I mean that you and me,
Shall go sailing in a big ship
Right over all the sea.
We'll wait till we are older,
For if we went to-day,
You know that we might lose ourselves,
And never find the way.
 

IN AN APPLE TREE

 
In September, when the apples were red,
To Belinda I said,
"Would you like to go away
To Heaven, or stay
Here in this orchard full of trees
All your life?" And she said, "If you please
I'll stay here—where I know,
And the flowers grow."
 

THE WEDDING BELLS

 
The Wedding Bells were ringing,
And Monday was the day,
And all the little ladies
Were there so fresh and gay.
 
 
And up—up—up the steps they went,
The wedding fine to see;
And the Roses were all for the Bride,
So pretty—so pretty was she.
 

THE LITTLE LONDON GIRL

 
In my little Green House, quite content am I,
When the hot sun pours down from the sky;
For oh, I love the country—the beautiful country.
Who'd live in a London street when there's the country?
 
 
I live in a London street, then I long and long
To be the whole day the sweet Flowers among
Instead of tall chimney-pots up in the sky,
The joy of seeing Birds and Dragon Flies go by.
 
 
At home I lie in bed, and cannot go to sleep,
For the sound of cart-wheels upon the hard street.
But here my eyes close up to no sound of anything
Except it is to hear the nightingales sing.
 
 
And then I see the Chickens and the Geese go walking,
I hear the Pigs and the Ducks all talking.
And the Red and the Spotted Cows they stare at me,
As if they wondered whoever I could be.
 
 
I see the little Lambs out with their mothers—
Such pretty little white young sisters and brothers.
Oh, I'll stay in the country, and make a daisy chain,
And never go back to London again.